The Mood
by MaskedShipper
Summary: Ron manages to convince Draco to let him visit Malfoy Manor for a few days. What could the reason possibly be? Oh. Is that it? Really? Well. It looks like being gay is harder than it looks, huh, Ron? R/D; R/?


A/N: I hope I got you guys to grin. This is Ron/Draco, but not really. There's no love. There's no fluff. Draco's too manly for that. Heh, yeah right. Anyway, it's Ron/Draco, but also Ron/??. Ooh, better read to find out. Feedback is love.

Warnings: Slash, mentions of sex, a bit of raunchy language. Heterosexuality, too.

Disclaimer: I own no Malfoys, Weasleys, or peacocks. My existence is a sad one.

Enjoy!

**&**

"That's the most moronic idea I've ever heard."

Draco's gaze was steady and unwavering. Bright blue eyes narrowed, and his angered look, his red hair matching his red cheeks and ears, not to mention his still harsh breathing, sent chills down the blond's spine. Still, the other's delicious Just-Fucked look didn't make the statement any less stupid.

"I'm just saying – "

"Well don't. Don't get me wrong, I never thought you were a bright one, but I assumed you were smart enough to keep a suggestion like that in the darkest recesses of your mind."

The other male groaned as lifted himself off the blond, sitting up and stretching his arms. Draco smirked at that. Used all his muscles, had he? All brawn and no brain. His proposition had been proof of that.

"It's 'cause – "

"I don't even want to know the reason behind that. The answer is no."

"Come on, Malfoy!"

"Listen: what is this to you? Do you love me or something?"

Ron grimaced and Draco rolled his eyes. "It's nothing like that and you know it. It'll be like practise for me, that's all."

"Practise?"

"Yeah, y'know. For when I date other blokes or something. Once this is over."

"Look, I get this shagging thing. Really, I do. It's fun, you're decent at it, it gives me something to do – "

"I'll suck you off again?"

"Don't even _attempt_ bribery. Weasels fail at that."

Draco was glad that he was getting the other riled up. An angry Weasley really was the best. Especially when said angry Weasley would probably bugger his brains out in hopes that Draco would learn his lesson. It was too bad Draco enjoyed it.

"Malfoy, for once in your life, try to help me out, yeah?"

"Why in Merlin's name would I do that?"

"I'll stop shagging you."

"I can find better shags." Although Draco would miss the Weasley's force, he could find another partner in no time. Threats of that nature wouldn't work. Ron was biting his lip, causing Draco's lip to curl. Didn't he know they'd get chapped? The other looked so worried, so desperate… why was it so important?

"Listen, Malfoy… It's just that… y'know… If I ever had a real, y'know, boyfriend… I'd need to know how to act and all."

"Act like yourself. Your boyfriend's going to know you're an oaf anyway."

"Hey!" Ron pulled away from him completely and sat himself against the wall of the cramped closet. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. "Please, Malfoy?" Ah, to break down a Gryffindor's pride. It was music to the Slytherin's ears.

"No matter how much you beg, I'm not telling my parents about this. I'm not telling _anyone_ about this. It's not something I want people to know."

"That you like getting screwed in the bum?"

"That I allow you to touch me."

Draco smirked as blue eyes blinked open to glare at him. It was a while before the redhead spoke again, and the blond guessed it was because he was trying to school his anger. "You wouldn't need to tell your parents or anything. I'd just pretend they knew."

"It's not going to happen."

"Come on! Please?"

"Why would I do this? What's in it for me?"

"I'll… I'll do anything. Honest. Anything you want."

"No."

"I promise I will. I… I'll sign a wizarding contract."

Draco's interest was definitely peaked.

"For how long?" he drawled, a twisted sort of smile forming on his lips.

"A week?"

"No."

"Malfoy! I'll do anything for a week – "

"Make it two."

"What?"

"Two weeks and it's a deal."

A smug Malfoy and an apprehensive Weasley shook hands firmly before standing up and getting dressed.

Thus, Draco agreed to introduce Ron Weasley to his parents.

**&**

"Draco, darling, how wonderful to see you again. I trust you had a nice ride back with your father?"

"Of course, Mother."

The young Malfoy walked in and flung his travelling cloak in the house elf's direction. It felt nice to be home. His mother's perfume attacked his nostrils as she bent to kiss both his cheeks and pull him into a hug. He allowed her to do so, not feeling at all embarrassed by it. No one important was watching, anyway. When her arms tensed around him, he smirked, knowing she had seen the look on his father's face. It had taken all the control in the world not to burst into laughter when his father had first seen his visitor.

"Lucius? What's wrong?"

And Draco knew that that was the moment Ronald stepped into the house because his mother stood straighter and let go of his body. The urge to laugh tugged at both his mind and lungs.

"Oh. Hello."

The Malfoy heir turned to see a very red-faced Weasley scuffing his foot. He noticed his father's brow twitching; he was probably resisting the urge to yell at him for dirtying their floors by doing that.

"Narcissa, I'm sure you know Mr Weasley? Draco seems to have invited him over for a few days."

"Has he?" His mother looked at him with a stern and sceptical look. Draco shrugged.

"I've decided to be nice this year. It's 'Bring A Poor Person Home' week. I figured there wouldn't be any harm in him seeing what he'll never be able to have." Ron shut his eyes and bit his lip, and Draco hoped it was because he was frustrated and was trying to bite his tongue. This might be fun after all. "Come on then, Weasley. Thunkers will bring your trunk up to your room. Time for a tour of my house. And don't touch anything with your grimy fingers."

He began mounting the stairs, knowing that all eyes were watching him. His lips twitched upwards as he mentally calculated how much time they could spend upstairs before his parents started wondering. This week would be full of shags, he swore to himself. The rest of the summer would be without Weasley's brutish hands and strokes, and the Slytherin was going to milk this opportunity for all it was worth.

"You have lovely peacocks, Mrs Malfoy," Ron said, before scurrying up the stairs after Draco.

**&**

Not once had Ron said 'wow'. Not to anything. There were no gasps of wonder, no stares of amazement, just distant looks and halfhearted conversations. It was really starting to tick Draco off. How could Weasley not be impressed with his broom collection, with his spacious room, with his spacious house, with his beautiful garden view? How could Weasley be ignoring his very obvious attempts at starting a very serious snogging session?

"Weasley!" he barked. Ron blinked and looked at him, and it looked like he was almost shocked at seeing Draco there.

"Hmm? Did you want something, Malfoy?"

"Yes I wanted something! If you're going to stay here, I better have something in return."

"I gave you two weeks of enslavement! What more could you want from me?"

"Technically," Draco drawled, looking out the large bay window of his room, "You only gave me thirteen days."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"So, with full technicality, you still owe me."

They stared at each other, Draco's eyebrow waggling, Ron's eyes wide and jaw hanging.

"I can't believe you're not satisfied."

"I'm quite insatiable."

"You had me wear a shirt that said 'Slytherin Pride' to Transfiguration!"

"It was for your own good."

"You had me sing 'I Want Your Potion Inside Me' in Charms!"

"It's a catchy song."

"You had me go to breakfast _naked_ three days in a bleeding row!"

"You're exaggerating. You were wearing a thong and your Gryffindor tie. That's not _naked_."

"I streaked in the dungeons, screaming 'My snake belongs to Slytherin'!"

"You know, I get the strangest feeling you're trying to blame me for something."

Ron took a deep breath through his nostrils, and the blond was reminded of a fierce bull, ready to tackle its prey. He enjoyed knowing that the other could do no such thing. There was still an entire day of enslavement by Wizard Law, and Ron had no choice but to comply.

"You should be praising my cock at a time like this."

"I think it should be the other way around. No, I _know_ it should be the other way around."

"Not in your house, Malfoy! Are you mad? What if your mum catches us?" Something in the way Ron was acting wasn't right, Draco thought. The way his eyes darted to the door, the way he was scared of his mum catching them... It was a fear that many people would have, he knew, but… something was just off about it.

"Gryffindor losing his nerve?"

"She could walk in on us at any time!"

"She'd sure get an eyeful, wouldn't she?"

And when Draco cast a locking spell on the door, Ron had frowned at it, something even stranger than being afraid of being caught in a compromising position. He was giving the door more attention than he was giving Draco, damn it! With a huff, the blond got on his knees and began undoing the redhead's wrinkled trousers.

"What're you doing?"

"The door's locked, Weasley. Shut up."

And while Ron eventually stopped staring at the door, while he let himself drown in the attention Draco's tongue was giving him, while he gasped and pulled at the pale strands of hair, Draco was sure Ron was holding his voice.

"Nhgnn… Mms… _Malfoy_."

That was that.

**&**

Dinner was an awkward affair, but Draco didn't mind it. He seemed to be the only one comfortable at the table. Ron kept glancing at him as if demanding reassurance through his look, but Draco just smiled and looked at nothing in particular. It was time for some dinner entertainment.

"So, Father, how's the work at the Ministry going?"

"Quite well, though it is still the same as ever."

"Still trying to weed out the bad employees?" Draco asked, his voice maybe a tad too innocent. Lucius smirked at his son, having taken the hint.

"Of course. It's working to some extent. Of course, there's always those people in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department..."

"Oh really?" Draco asked, his eyes glinting evilly as he looked at Ron, who had stopped eating and was glaring at his food, his face beginning to blossom with a colour the Weasley clan was quite accustomed to.

"Yes, of course. There's strong evidence that this one man is tampering with muggle devices in his own home. Disgusting habit. It won't be long until he's fired."

The fork beside him clanged against the plate and it only served to make Draco's smile wider.

"Good then. I can't wait until the papers have all been worked out. After all, it's a crime to meddle with those unholy things. And plus, it's in his department! He knows the laws, I'm sure. It's his area of expertise, is it not? The Ministry would be better off without such workers."

He could hear the shallow breathing from beside him, but he wasn't staring at Ron. He was staring at his father, who's expression was smug, smiling, almost giddy. He was sure it mirrored what his own face looked like.

"Both of you hush this instant." The smiles fell off their faces and, simultaneously, they turned towards a not-so-happy looking Narcissa. "That is no way to treat a guest."

"But Mother," Draco started, a hint of a whine in his voice, "We weren't saying anything bad about Ronald. We were – "

"I know exactly what you and your father were discussing, as I'm sure your friend was."

"He's not my – "

"It is not something to discuss at the dinner table."

"Mother – "

"Draco Lucien Malfoy, you invited him here. As the host, you will respect your guest. It is proper etiquette to do so. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco hung his head and nodded. "Yes, Mother."

"Good then."

Draco turned his head and glared at Ron, feeling like it was all his fault. The other's face was red, as were his ears. Funny, his ears hadn't been red before.

"May we be excused?" Ron said, a bold thing to say, and he grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him up, almost running out of the room. Draco glared at him, scowling as he tried to keep up so as not to fall.

Ron only stopped when they had reached Draco's room, and he wasted no time in pulling his and Draco's trousers off.

**&**

Draco stared up at his ceiling, catching his breath. Ron lay beside him, an arm draped over his waist, his face nuzzling in blond hair.

"Really needed to be inside me, huh?" he asked after a few long moments of recovering.

"Yeah," Ron gasped, inhaling deeply.

"My parents will wonder why you dragged me up so quickly."

"That's fine," he replied, still breathing deeply.

"So, what? Do you get turned on when I insult your family?"

Ron stopped breathing so deeply. "What?"

"You seemed to need this pretty badly, and, in all honesty, I don't see where you got your motivation from. You like being humiliated?"

"I do _not_."

Draco could feel the heat of Ron's cheeks against his skin and couldn't stop a powerful, excited feeling begin to grow inside him. Merlin, he loved berating people.

"You do, hmm? Maybe I should make you wear girl clothes. Maybe I should make you beg for me to squirt myself over you."

"That's disgusting."

"Well, then, I don't know what did it, but that was an intense shag."

"Yeah…" Ron said dreamily. Draco rolled his eyes but let himself be snuggled against. Until he heard the light snore. That was when he shoved hard at the freckled body beside him.

"_Ow!_ What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I won't have you sleeping in my bed. Go to your own room."

"It's fucking dark in here, Malfoy! I don't even know where my wand is! How am I supposed to guess where my clothes are?"

"Your room is across the hall. Just walk there naked."

Draco snickered, rolling over and cuddling against his pillow.

"Yeah? Your mum wouldn't mind?"

**&**

"Weasley?"

Draco found Ron sitting in the courtyard. He sat beside him on the stone bench.

"Weasley?"

What was he staring at? Draco looked ahead, trying to see what Ron was seeing. All he saw was his mum, doing that therapeutic gardening thing that calmed her.

"Weasley?"

Draco was getting frustrated. It wasn't that his voice was low – his voice was getting louder by the second. Was Ron purposely ignoring him?

"Weasley!" he cried, punching his arm as hard as he could. Ron jumped in his seat, turning frantically to Draco.

"Sodding hell! You scared the living devils out of me!" he said, rubbing his arm where Draco had hit it. "What was that for?" he yelled indignantly.

"For ignoring me, you prat!"

"You git!"

"You oaf!"

"You ferret!"

"You weasel!"

"Hey, you in the mood?"

"For?"

"For knitting a sweater," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "For fooling around. Duh."

Draco narrowed his eyes and huffed. "I was when I woke up, but you weren't in your room, so I had to take care of it myself." He stuck out his bottom lip slightly, pouting, and Ron was staring at his lips. Finally, the blond thought. Attention.

"So, uh, yeah. Want me to make it up to you?"

"Later."

"No. Now."

And Draco couldn't help but notice that Weasley's eyes scanned the garden once more before he dragged him away.

**&**

"I think we should try different positions," Draco murmured.

"I don't," came the reply, almost instantly.

"And why not? My arms are aching. I can't keep holding myself up."

"So don't. Just lay on your stomach without support."

"That would hurt."

"Well, what else do you want to do? You know I don't like giving you blow jobs."

"It's not about blow jobs. It's just that ever since this started, you always give it to me from behind."

"You know I'm not experienced with any of this."

"Not experienced with touching me, either," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"I do _so_ touch you!"

"Yeah. My arse hole, my arse, and my hair. I think I've covered it all."

"Not my fault."

"Oh right. I forgot that the Pope was to be blamed for all your terrible behaviour in bed. Silly me."

"If you didn't like me, you wouldn't be pining for me constantly."

"Malfoys don't pine. And I certainly don't pine after you. _You_ were the one who wanted to come here. _You_ are the one with the suddenly over active libido."

"Are you complaining?"

"No."

"Then shut up."

**&**

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"You do know that I frown upon wrestling, don't you?"

Ron nearly spat his juice, and Draco's head shot up to his father. "What?"

"I frown upon any violence at all. Differences can be solved with words." Or bribes. Or blackmail, Draco's mind added. Still, he felt his cheeks begin to colour.

"I… I don't see what your point is, Father."

"We can hear you in your rooms. Grunting and fumbling on the floor and whatnot. Very brutish behaviour."

Draco stared at his plate with wide, disbelieving eyes. Silencing charms! Holy fuck! How many times had they forgotten to put them up?

"No matter how much you boys would like to hit things, there are other ways to solve your problems."

"Your father is right, Draco. I can't believe you boys would wrestle and brawl. In our house, no less! Quite uncivilized – "

"No, Mrs Malfoy!" Ron said, and Draco's head almost snapped with the speed he used to look in Ron's direction. What the hell was he saying? What the hell kind of moronic twit _was_ he? "We weren't wrestling! Honest! I'd never think of doing that in your house. I'm civilized. Honest!" Oh dear Merlin, Ron was the dumbest bloke alive. The dumbest bloke who ever lived, perhaps. Draco's stared at his plate again, eyes still wide, nostrils flaring.

"So what were you doing, if not wrestling, hmm?"

The voice had been chastising, suspicious, from his mother, but Draco knew it would click in her head any second. Merlin. He was so dead.

"Draco? You and… you and Mr Weasley here…" Everything went quiet at the table, and Draco refused to put his two sickles of sense in. In a situation like this it was best to keep your mouth shut, to wait until the parents assumed, then tell them if they were right or wrong, and use as many half-truths as possible.

Obviously Weasley hadn't been properly educated.

"It's not like that, Mrs Malfoy," Ron finally said, his voice almost squeaking. The blond would have smirked had he not been overcome with the urge of smacking the other as hard as possible. "I don't… I mean, I don't like him or anything."

Shut up, Draco's mind cried out. He winced and sunk into his chair. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut _up!_ Did the Weasel not _know_ he was making things worse? How could he _not know_ something like that?

"You don't like my son, but you're sleeping with him?" Draco refused to look up, even though he could feel his father's gaze boring into his skin. If he could whistle innocently and slink away, like the characters in those comic books did, he would. Sadly, Draco did not know how to whistle.

"Er, well, um. He lets me."

"Are you calling my son a tart?" Narcissa asked, and he could hear her voice getting louder. Bad.

"N-no! I would never! He's not a tart! I would never think that! We just… I… He, um…"

"How can you sleep with someone and not like them? It's foul. My poor Draco probably has his heart broken this very moment. How dare you use my son this way?"

Draco's heart wasn't at all broken, but if it would get him out of trouble, he could force a few tears. But no, his father would think it quite un-manly of him. Plus, he hadn't ever, technically, told them he was gay, and tears with the addition of anal sex might be too much for his father to handle. His sexuality would have been a good conversation to have before this. He just hoped Weasley learned his lesson and shut his trap.

"No! I didn't use him! We just, it was… kind of an agreement…"

"An agreement? Are you paying him? Is he paying _you?_"

"What? No! Of course not!"

"You've turned my son gay, haven't you?" His father's voice was booming over the table. "You've contaminated him!"

"No! Oh Merlin, no! I didn't do anything of the sort. Men don't even turn me on! I'm not even a fruit!"

Everything froze. His mother's voice, his father's glare, Draco's own thoughts. Everything stood still. When he finally remembered to breathe, Draco spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"How… how can you _not_ be gay?"

Ron coughed uncomfortably beside him. Draco lifted his eyes from his lunch and stared incredulously at the redhead.

"What's that supposed to mean? How can you not be the _slightest_ gay? I don't have a vagina, incase you hadn't noticed! I don't have breasts, either!"

"No, yes, Malfoy, I realise that – "

"Am I girly?"

"No! Well, I mean, yes, a little, but – "

"How can you not be gay? It's not _physically_ possible! I've seen your bloody erection! How can you _not_ be turned on by me and still get hard?" He was standing, shrieking, completely humiliated and offended. It was at that moment he realised both his parents were staring at him. He cleared his throat, removed the outrageous look from his face, and sat back down, trying to look cool and collected.

"Mother, Father, you've both just witnessed a scene from the school's play."

"Hogwarts has never put on a play before."

"Yes, well, that's precisely why we're doing one next year. Weasley and I are quite set on playing these two characters, and that's why he's come over this summer. So we can rehearse. Thank you for filling in the part of the angry parents."

There was a silence around the table, and Draco thought it fine to take a bite of his food. Made him seem less suspicious that way. He heard Ron's fork against the plate, eventually heard someone take a sip of wine, and no one spoke for the rest of the meal.

**&**

"Look, I said I was sorry."

"Shut up."

"Your father was all cross and whatever! I couldn't just admit to being gay! And your mum – "

"I've never been so humiliated in my _life_."

"Is it 'cause you fancied me? Because I thought we agreed – "

Draco turned and glared at the redhead. "This has nothing to do with anyone fancying anyone else. This has to do with the fact that my parents think I'm an easy slut now who opens his legs for anyone, including straight oafs!"

"I can't have your mum thinking I'm gay!"

"Why not? You said this was practise, wasn't it? Own up."

"No."

"Why?"

"Your mum – "

"Ugh! Go snog _her_, then! I'm in no mood to get on my knees for you after your oh-so-nice declaration of _my _sexuality. Get out!"

"Fine!"

The door slammed, and Draco huffed moodily. Not only did his parents think he was gay, but they also thought he was heartbroken that Weasley 'used' him. He used Weasley just as much. Telling his parents that a teenager had needs, physically, that didn't always follow up with _emotional_ attachments, was a conversation the blond wanted to avoid at all costs. He wasn't about to ruin his angelic reputation in their eyes. He was still their sweet and innocent baby. They didn't know of his sexcapades, of his wild libido… They didn't know why he loved Quidditch so much. He wasn't about to tell his father that he didn't like the sport, that he merely liked the locker rooms. No, he'd let them think what they wanted.

Something caught his pale eyes as he turned over in his bed. A folded sheet was lying on the floor. Had Weasley dropped it? Curious, Draco got out of bed and carefully padded the floor, picking up the parchment delicately.

'_To Ron,'_ it read. _'From Harry'._

He unfolded it and scanned the contents, his eyes widening. Dear fucking Merlin. Crumpling the paper in his hand, the male's plan began to spin in his mind. No one did that to Draco Malfoy and lived to tell the tale.

That son of a bitch was going to die.

**&**

"Ronald."

The voice was soft and gentle and it washed through the room, feminine and supple. Blue eyes blinked open to reveal a groggy and confused occupant, only to shift to startled and wide. But nothing in his demeanour hinted that he was scandalized.

The bastard.

"Ronald, I'm so glad you don't fancy my son. He's been so terrible to you all this time… Quite rude of him. He obviously doesn't appreciate you. Not like I do."

Ron's jaw dropped as the figure stepped closer, and his eyes were connected, always connected, with the grey eyes that approached him. He shifted and sat up on the bed, clutching the blankets to his waist as his upper body was exposed.

"You're such a handsome young man, Ronald. I can see why my son wanted you. I can't see why he'd want to treat you so badly, though. If I had you, I'd want to keep you around…" She smirked, the Malfoy trademark, but it was sensual and sexy, and not at all degrading. "Care to take off your clothes so I can… _appreciate_ you?"

His heart seemed to be hammering in his chest, his eyes doubling in size. "M-Mrs Malfoy – "

"Hush. Quiet. Mustn't wake my husband…"

The softest of smiles appeared on the tall woman's face, and Ron actually wiped at his mouth.

"M-Mrs Malfoy, I can't believe, I mean, I just don't – "

And the woman stopped approaching him. "Did I misread your signals? Oh, I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry, Mr Weasley. I'm not sure what came over me. Please forget I ever came to your room. Excuse me."

She turned to go, her eyes like a doe's, her lips creasing downwards just a tad. Only one step was taken away from the redhead when his loud voice filled the room.

"No, Mrs Malfoy! Don't go! Please! I want you! I want you so _bad_!"

And the woman smirked. Not as graceful as she had been before, she turned around to face the bloke in bed who had pulled the covers and pants off his hips to show just how _much_ he wanted her. Ron's expression was desperate and needy, which made the woman laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more. The Weasel had the decency to blush and cover himself up again.

"Er… M-Mrs… Mrs Malfoy?"

"You… are _so _busted."

Clutching onto her stomach, the figure of Mrs Malfoy began to transform. She shifted and shrank and morphed, until she had changed into the form of her son, Draco.

"_M-Malfoy_?"

"You pervy little prat," Draco said, hands on his hips and a victorious smirk on his face. "Using me to get to my mother. Didn't think I'd realise, did you?"

"M-Malfoy… Oh Merlin… oh gods… oh…"

"You can 'oh' all you want, but it won't help." Draco, still smirking, still eyeing Weasley, walked towards the wall and tapped it twice with his wand. "And it gets better." Instantly, the wall disappeared, revealing their spectators.

His mum, for one, looked horrified and disgusted, her eyes on the ceiling, her nose wrinkled. It was his father's face that made him really giddy though, the murderous look of rage as he glared daggers into Ron's head. But although his father's reaction was his favourite, it was the third spectator that Draco liked the most.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

"M-Mum!"

There stood a plump redheaded woman, looking for all the world like murder was not beneath her. "Ronald, I cannot _believe_ – "

"N-no, Mum, it's not what you – "

"Hush! You're invited into their home, you're a guest, you have poor, innocent Draco Malfoy as your lover, and then what? You come here and… and you… Honestly! Were you born in a barn? You're certainly _acting_ like an animal!"

It was funny to watch Ron shrink in mortification, to watch as he curled into himself and stared at the horror that was his mother as she continued to rant on. Draco just wished he could have this memory displayed to the rest of the world. He was sure that, with enough time, the Slytherin in him could find a way.

"Do you see yourself? I raised you to be better than this! I raised you with decency and values! Just wait 'till your father hears about this! I expect more than just apologies to the Malfoys, mister. There will be serious grovelling, and if you think you're going to be pitied because of what young Mister Malfoy did to you just now, you are _sorely_ mistaken."

Mrs Weasley turned to the two blond adults to apologize profusely on behalf of her offspring, talking about how embarrassed she was and sharing in their outrage. Draco had never felt as happy as he did now. No, really, it felt bloody fantastic.

He stared at Ron, unable to stop his smirk from growing. He felt like he was on a sugar high. The teenaged redhead was groaning and mumbling things to himself as he buried himself under the covers. Draco allowed him a few moments (3.7 seconds, actually) of self-comfort, before approaching him.

"So…" he started, licking his lips to try and stop the grin. "You in the mood?"

_-:Finite Fabula:-_

_"Stacey's mom has got it going on. She's all I want and I've waited for so long. Stacey, can't you see? You're just not the girl for me. I know it might be wrong, but I'm in love with Stacey's mom." _

- Fountains of Wayne, Stacey's Mom


End file.
